So hurry down the chimney tonight
by anotherreasonwhynot
Summary: Christmas drabble, OFC and Eames go Mexico


She didn't think there'd be anyone to see her, but she wrapped a towel around her body anyway, as she stepped out of the bathroom, leisurely crossing the spacious room, and walked straight out into the balcony through the open door. The sun felt amazing on her exposed arms as she took a deep breath, smelling the saltiness of the ocean, and glanced around the beach. She reached up to undo the bun she'd put her hair into prior to her shower, and let her hair flow freely in the warm breezes of wind.

"Merry Christmas," she said out loud, smirking towards the beach in front of her. "I didn't think you'd show," she continued.

She heard a creaking of floor boards, soft steps coming her way.

"Well, I've always enjoyed Mexico," a voice replied right behind her. She turned around, finding him standing less than a foot away. He was wearing linen trousers, sandals and a short sleeved, tropically printed button-down shirt that he'd left unbuttoned, exposing his muscular body. He was smiling with his eyes twinkling, a sight she was familiar with.

"You didn't have anywhere else to be?" she continued, although she knew his answer.

"It's a lonely life we forgers lead," he replied, squinting his eyes in the sun.

"It is indeed," she said as she looked at him from under her lashes. "I see your fashion sense never fails, Eames. That is one horrible shirt," she smiled, reaching out to play with the fabric of his sleeve with her thumb and index finger. He chuckled.

"Look who's calling the kettle black, is this how a lady receives guests?" he spoke, nodding towards her towel.

"To be fair, you're not exactly…" she spoke, as he reached up and with the tiniest bit of effort made her towel fall into a heap around her feet, leaving her standing in front of him wearing only a golden necklace and a red lace thong. She didn't even blink at his actions. "…a guest," she finished smiling while his eyes wandered.

"Be that as it may, surely we agree that this is much more appropriate?" he smirked, taking a step forward.

There was a knock at the door, making their eyes turn in its direction.

"Ah, your breakfast. I hope you don't mind terribly, I added something for myself," Eames spoke, his face only a couple of inches from hers. "You appear to have dropped your towel, allow me…"

He crouched in front of her, grabbing the towel with one hand. His eyes stopped on her panties as his free hand reached up to them, his finger finding the edge of them and traveling down, down, down, making her breath catch in her throat.

"I do like this color on you," he murmured before standing up and handing her the towel.

"Do put something on, love, we don't want to give the poor staff any heart attacks," he called as he made his way to the door.

She smiled at his retreating back, wrapping the towel around her body once more as she followed him inside, grabbed a bra and a dress, and went back into the bathroom.

Once she emerged, her traditional Christmas breakfast had already been set out. For years now she had been in the habit of having champagne and oysters for breakfast every year on Christmas morning.

Eames stood next to the table with his back to her, pouring the champagne into flutes as she made her way to the music player in the corner of the room, and soon Eartha Kitt's voice came from the speakers.

"Your contradictions fascinate me," Eames spoke as she made her way over to him.

"What do you mean?"

"Well darling, it's Christmas morning, and here you are, about to enjoy this decadent breakfast on the balcony of a suite in a very, very expensive hotel in Mexico, but nonetheless you insist on traditional Christmas songs and wearing red, for the sole reason that it's Christmas," he spoke, offering her a flute and giving her a head-to-toe. She wore a dress that came almost to her knees, left her shoulders and back mostly bare, having only a band going around her neck to keep the front of it up, and it was loosely fitted.

"You look lovely," he added.

"How did you know I was wearing red without looking at me?" she asked teasingly.

"I know _you_, love. And I did see your thong," he smiled. "Remember that time in Kuala Lumpur?"

"The Aschini case? Of course," she replied, a shiver running down her spine at the thought. That was the first time they'd had outside the dreamscape. "What about it?"

"Nothing. I was merely curious as to whether or not you remember it," he replied smirking. "Shall we?"

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Consciousness was slowly creeping back into her mind, the feeling of feathery fingertips running along her spine pulling her into reality. She felt his lips on the crook of her neck, his breath warm and raising goose bumps on her skin.

"You are aware that it is customary, biologically determined for the man to fall asleep subsequent to sex, not the woman?" he murmured into her neck, making her smile.

"I am," she replied, opening her eyes lazily and turning around to face him, "but you wear me out."

"I do? I never thought it possible to outwear you," Eames spoke, his hands traveling down her back, finally stopping to cup her bottom and making camp there.

"Mm-hmm," she smiled, climbing on top of him, straddling his hips as the first tunes of _Santa Baby_ came over the speakers, "but I might be getting a second wind."

"_Santa Baby, slip a sable under the tree, for me. Been an awful good girl, Santa baby, so hurry down the chimney tonight,_" she sang along to the music, pressing kisses up the line of his jaw and continuing down the side his neck.

"An awful good girl?" Eames chuckled as Eartha sang about a '54 convertible in the background. She bit him lightly on the shoulder and looked up into his eyes.

"Compared to some anyway," she smiled, continuing her line of kisses down his chest.

"_Think of all the fun I've missed, think of all the fellas that I haven't kissed,_" she sang and looked up, only to see him cocking an eyebrow at her. She chuckled and continued, "_Next year I could be just as good, if you'll check off my Christmas list._"

"Do tell me, what's on your Christmas list, love?" he played along, letting his eyes close as her lips moved down her abdomen towards his bellybutton.

"_Santa baby, I wanna yacht, and really that's not a lot,_" she sang, not able to keep the smile from her face, "_been an angel all year, Santa baby, so hurry down the chimney tonight._"

"Happy to oblige," Eames replied, sitting up as she reached his hipbones.

"With the yacht?" she smirked, straightening up so that they were face to face.

"Down your chimney," he chuckled.

"Hmm… I think I'd prefer the yacht," she said biting her bottom lip and rolling her hips against his growing erection, making him close his eyes again as a soft moan escaped him. She leaned in, pressing her breasts against his chest and put her lips up to his ear.

"_Come and trim my Christmas tree, with some decorations bought at Tiffany's, I really do believe in you, let's see if you believe in me,_" she sang softly, rolling her hips to the rhythm of the song. Suddenly she felt his hands on her arms, pushing her backwards a little, his lips almost catching hers before she managed to pull away with a smirk.

"_Santa baby, forgot to mention one little thing,_" she sang smiling, looking him dead in the eye as he eyed her lips.

_"A ring,_" she continued, as his eyes shot up to hers, "_I don't mean on the phone, Santa baby, so hurry down the chimney tonight._"

"A ring?" he spoke, leaning back against the headboard. She chuckled.

"Lyrics to the song, Eames. You're the last man on Earth I'd expect to give me a ring. Now kiss me," she replied, running her hands up his chest, finally settling on his muscular neck. She pressed her lips against his, feeling his hands find her bottom and continue their way up her back, until she suddenly found herself on her back below him.

"The last man on Earth?" he murmured, reaching towards the nightstand and opening the drawer, pulling out a small jewelry box. Her eyebrows shot up.

"What the… oh my God. Eames, what is this?" she stammered, raising herself to lean on her elbows.

"It's a ring," he replied, dropping himself on the bed next to her to lie on his side, one hand supporting his head, the other holding the box in front of her.

"Well what kind of ring?" she asked, eyeing him suspiciously. He chuckled.

"Open it, love, and you'll see."

She pulled herself up the bed a little to lean against the headboard and took the box from him. She cast one more look his way before she carefully opened the box.

"Holy…" her jaw dropped as she looked at the contents. The ring was white gold with a large round diamond, with at least two dozen smaller diamonds next to the big one going around the band.

"Eames, is this what I think it is?" she managed to get out, not able to pry her eyes off of the ring.

"What do you think it is, love?" he smirked.

"Eames! I'm about to slap you," she huffed, finally looking into his eyes.

"Alright, alright," he laughed, "it's a ring. That's all, love. It is Christmas after all."

"So it's not… you know," she spoke, a little pink rising on her cheeks.

"What, an engagement ring? Need I remind you I'm the last man on Earth you'd expect to give you a ring?"

Her eyes narrowed at him as she took the ring from the box, trying it on her middle finger, but the ring didn't go past the lower joint.

"Oh, look at that poor fit. Maybe try another finger," Eames spoke. She started to follow his drift and decided to play him a little. She tried the finger on her ring finger, on her right hand.

"Fits nicely there, don't you think?" she spoke, holding out her hand for him to see. He smiled.

"Hmm. It does look nice. But merely for comparison's sake, why don't you try it on the other hand."

She chuckled and put the ring on her left ring finger.

"You mean here?" she asked.

"Bloody hell, it fits," he smirked. She laughed.

"So I see," she smiled. "Funny, this looks exactly like an engagement ring. And it fits my ring finger perfectly," she continued, lowering herself to lie next to him.

"That is funny indeed," he replied.

"Eames," she said more sternly. He smiled, then shrugged.

"What can I say, love? We're two halves of the same coin."

"Or poker chip," she added smiling, fiddling with the pendant of her necklace.

She wasn't sure she wanted to know if she was dreaming just yet or not. She dropped her pendant from her fingers, cupped the back of his head with her hand and pulled his face to hers, pressing her lips on his.


End file.
